


nightmares and the aftermath

by The_Eclectic_Bookworm



Series: lucky you’re the one i love [5]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 18:02:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13862994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Eclectic_Bookworm/pseuds/The_Eclectic_Bookworm
Summary: “I wish I was more qualified for helping.”“You’re tiny,” said Ripper. “No one’s holding you accountable.”“I’m, like, a month from turning twenty,” said Jenny indignantly.





	nightmares and the aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> so this is a fic that requires some context (which i copy-pasted from the handy reference post i made on my tumblr a while back):
> 
> instead of giles, it’s ripper who’s hanging out with the scoobies & acting as a reluctant mentor figure! eyghon isn’t as much a thing of the past as it was in canon, so he’s a lot more clumsily guarded and abrasive but also a lot more accessible in a weird kind of way. he’s in his early twenties i think?
> 
> jenny’s a bit younger than ripper & equally angry but they end up being Soft and In Love in an awkward slowburn way bc ripper’s incredibly scared about caring about people, esp. after ethan & that disaster
> 
> i wrote this for The Anon Who Shared Their AU W/ Me because i love them and they inspire me with all their love for giles. more is probably on the way someday when i can stop crying about the concept of ripper & jenny being soft traumatized kids in love

“Breathe.”

“Sod off.”

Jenny gave Ripper a Look and rolled all the way over until she was lying on top of him. “Your grandmother says you should practice breathing after nightmares,” she said.

“Are you two _talking,_ ” Ripper demanded exhaustedly, “that’s not _fair,_ ” and closed his eyes, winding an arm around Jenny’s waist. She smelled like coffee and lavender.

“Humor me, Rupert,” said Jenny, resting her head on his chest and brushing his cheek with her hand until he finally opened his eyes again, irritated. “Just—take a few deep breaths—”

“I’m _fine_ now—”

“—and count to ten—”

“I’m telling my gran she’s not to talk to my girlfriend anymore about _my_ ways of handling things—”

“—you’re getting totally panicky, I feel like this is proving my point—”

“I am _not panicking,_ ” Ripper snapped. Jenny raised her head and gave him an _oh, really?_ expression that seemed, to him, annoyingly on the nose. “Fine,” he mumbled. “There’s—some panic.”

“Which is okay,” Jenny reminded him.

“Which is okay.” Ripper rolled awkwardly onto his side, facing Jenny, and closed his eyes again, taking a quiet breath in. Halfway through his breath out, he felt Jenny snuggle a little closer, and the knot in his chest lessened just a bit as he drifted back to sleep.

* * *

" _You’re not real.”_

_Jenny looks livid at this. “We’re going to talk about that later,” she says, and gets to work on untying him._

_“You’re not—real.” Ripper stumbles over the words. “You are not real.” He waits for her to ask him something else, some other qualifying question, but she doesn’t look up. Trying to trick him again, most likely. Waiting until he believes she’s really there, just like he believed—_

_“Xander?” says Jenny very testily. “Please stop hovering and get me that knife. This rope isn’t cooperating.”_

_“Leave me alone,” says Ripper hoarsely._

_“Shut up, Rupert,” says Jenny. “Just—just, everyone—shut up.” Her hands are shaking on the ropes. “This is my fault,” she says, and sounds uncharacteristically close to tears. “I should have been honest from day one, I never wanted—”_

_“What do you want to know?” Drusilla had used Ripper’s gran to trick him, telling him she’d take care of saving the world if he’d tell her what she needed to know, and he’d been so tired and hurting that he hadn’t thought to question why she might have come to help him. He really wasn’t old enough to be a Watcher, just like his father had told him. Buffy would have done so much better with a Watcher who was experienced and strong enough to know what he was doing. That’s what Drusilla had said next._

_Jenny swallows hard and her hands move from the ropes to rest over Ripper’s. She’s warm to the touch; that’s the one thing that Drusilla hadn’t been able to fake. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” she says, shakily. “I am so sorry—”_

* * *

Ripper woke up with a sharp gasp and felt Jenny’s hands on his chest, sliding up to cup his face. Conversationally, she said, “Do you maybe want to get up and take a break from trying to sleep?”

“I don’t—”

“Breathe, okay?” said Jenny patiently. The part of this whole thing that Ripper hated the most was how adept Jenny had become at calming him down. She was so small, and there were so many things that scared him; it shouldn’t have become her responsibility to face those things head-on.

“I’m _breathing,_ ” snapped Ripper.

Jenny raised an eyebrow.

“I—don’t like—you seeing me—like this,” Ripper forced out, stumbling over the words.

Jenny considered this. Then she said, “Do you remember when I had that panic attack after Eyghon and you talked me through it and held my hand and I couldn’t look you in the eye for at least two weeks?”

Ripper did.

“And do you remember when I almost got my neck snapped by Angelus but you stabbed him with a broken-off mop handle and we sat on my bed all night while I cried like—” Jenny made a face. “Well. I can bring up a _lot_ of things that I don’t like remembering and that you were there for but—”

“I think I’d like to do the breathing thing and not talk about Angelus,” said Ripper thinly.

Jenny exhaled. “Okay,” she said. “Yeah. I think I want to do that too, I just—” She waved a hand at Ripper, then said, “I wish I was more qualified for _helping._ ”

“You’re _tiny,_ ” said Ripper. “No one’s holding you accountable.”

“I’m, like, a month from turning twenty,” said Jenny indignantly.

“You look _twelve,_ Jen.”

Jenny lightly punched Ripper’s shoulder, smiling a little relievedly. “Fuck off,” she said, and sat up in bed, stretching luxuriously before adding, “I’m going downstairs to heat up some of yesterday’s dinner, you coming?”

“Give me a minute,” said Ripper, rolling over onto his back.

He felt the bed shift as Jenny got up, and then she leaned over him and smoothed down his hair, pressing a small kiss to the corner of his mouth. He waited until she was gone before doing the breathing exercises, properly this time, and lay there for a few more minutes before pulling himself up and out of bed.

The apartment was illuminated by various antique lamps that the aunts had brought over when they were checking in, and Jenny was sitting on the counter eating cold pizza. Upon seeing Ripper, she said matter-of-factly, “Microwaving is always too much work—”

“That’s not _healthy,_ ” said Ripper, “if you’re eating yesterday’s dinner at _least_ eat some of the noodles—”

“I don’t know how to heat up noodles!”

“And here you are always getting on my case about setting a good example for the kids,” Ripper scoffed, and entered the kitchen, taking the pizza from Jenny and putting it back in the fridge. The spaghetti from last night was stuffed haphazardly between a large container of strawberries and what looked like leftover cookie dough. “Feels like bloody Jenga in here.”

“I want my pizza back,” Jenny muttered.

“I’ll make you tea, how’s that?” Ripper offered, carefully removing the spaghetti and shutting the fridge. Jenny turned on the counter with big doe eyes, and he said indignantly, “I am _not_ making you coffee at four in the morning!”

“It’s two in the morning,” Jenny corrected him.

“That only proves my point!”

“Whatever,” said Jenny, and held out a hand, tugging at the corner of Ripper’s T-shirt until he took a step towards the counter and let her wind her arms around his neck. It felt good, being this close to Jenny. A partnership and a relationship all in one. “You’re going to stay home from work today, by the way. I’m calling you in sick.”

“Jenny—”

“You need _sleep,_ Rupert,” said Jenny pointedly, resting her forehead against his.

“The kids’ll fuss,” Ripper objected.

“I’ll fight them off.”

“Buffy’ll punch you out.”

“Buffy _loves_ me,” said Jenny playfully.

“I love you,” said Ripper, impulsively, and because he was still getting used to saying it. Jenny bit her lip and smiled, and he kissed her, and it felt like the warm glow of the apartment was contained within them both.


End file.
